City Lights
by SilverStarsAndMoons
Summary: One shot, based on the Umbrella's City Lights. AU, or speculation if you will. Post finale. Addison has left for LA and Izzie is alone. Reflections and reconciliation. Addison and Izzie pairing.


**City Lights**

_If you see me at midnight  
Walking the streets  
You'll know it was me for I cannot sleep  
I've pushed away the dreams  
And spoiled the quiet  
I'm propelled by fear  
And not the righteous_

Clutching a cup of coffee, Izzie Stevens stands on the balcony of the apartment she occupied before she moved out of Meredith's house. She watches the steam curl away into the gathering twilight, passing across the blue-purple streaks that still cross the sky. Life was so different, now that she's a neonatal surgical resident; chosen for Addison, who then left for L.A. soon after Izzie picked her specialty. She had cited some reason, like "Things have changed, Stevens. Something just isn't the same. I can't stand the rain anymore." Izzie had watched Addison's red hair flutter in the gentle wind, had seen the tears glistening in her baby blue eyes, but she hadn't been able to comprehend the words, and to this day, Izzie only remembers the image and the pain that kept stabbing her heart at every turn.

_I'm thinking ambitious _

_I've got this feeling things will be alright _

_So go break a leg now _

_Been given the green light _

_So go entertain them _

_They're waiting for you _

_They're waiting for you_

Izzie knows, of course, that Addison's better off in L.A. What really burns her is that Addison left without seeming to care. She hadn't discussed it with Izzie; not after the 10 weeks of mind-blowing sex; not after they'd fallen asleep in each others' arms and tasted each others' tears. One day, Addison was walking the halls of Seattle Grace, expensive skirt swirling around her legs; the next day, she was gone and Izzie felt like her heart was about to explode. She'd run into the on-call room, gasping with painful sobs that wouldn't stop. Meredith had followed her in – Meredith had put a hand on her back, but Meredith couldn't help Izzie, because this was worse than Denny. Denny was dead. Addison was still out there. Addison was still smiling and giggling and pouting flirtatiously, and that was all fine, except that she wasn't doing it for Izzie. Addison wasn't smiling at Izzie; Addison wasn't fucking Izzie; Addison was away from Izzie.

_So have you been to a place like this? _

_To see your breath as it paints against the sky _

_The fever is near _

_I wish you were here_

Sometimes it stops hurting for a minute; when Izzie's in the middle of surgery, or when she's smiling down at a yawning newborn, cradling a little life in her arms. And sometimes, when Izzie's spending another sleepless night staring out the window, she can't stop the tears, and wonders if Addison's got someone to sleep with, because Izzie's forgotten how to sleep alone.

Izzie has pretty much withdrawn from her friends. For one, George is at Mercy West, and he doesn't answer his text messages anymore. Meredith and Derek are going for round 560 of their eternal struggle to be happy, and Izzie just can't deal with it – she just can't, partly because she no longer cares. Alex is making plans to move back to Iowa. Cristina has become a surgical automaton. She won't even discuss anything other than cardiothoracic surgery. So Izzie moved out, and she kind of likes the solitude – not having to answer to anyone, living inside her own head. That is, when she's not feeling like she wants to kill everything inside her head.

Addison had called once, when she was settled, to try and "explain things". Well, Izzie wasn't up for that, so she simply hung up and then stared at the phone, willing herself not to star 69. The phone had rung once, and then stopped. And Izzie hadn't called back. Now, she stares at her cell phone, resting on the balcony railing, and wonders if she just shouldn't. What the hell. Consider it calling an old friend.

She reaches for the phone, then shakes her head. She isn't going to be pathetic. Anyway, who cares. She may as well study the surgery she's supposed to perform on a three-week preemie tomorrow. Only, she can't tear herself away from staring over the city; staring into the carmine-colored bay, remembering the ferry and how Addison used to like to kiss her over the water.

Izzie's tears slip unbidden down her cheeks. She suddenly knows that she can't keep lying to herself. She's hurt and broken, and she just wants Addison to make it better.

"I wish you were here," Izzie whispers into the gathering darkness.

"Turn around," comes the soft reply.

Izzie feels soft arms sliding about her neck; she shivers as light breath feathers over her neck and the softness of silken hair falls coldly over her bare shoulders, and she turns to meet baby blue eyes that glint with unshed tears and taste warm lips upon hers.

Izzie's breath hitches, a sob rises in her throat and she simultaneously pulls away and pulls Addison forward, wanting and hating her all at the same time. Addison doesn't talk; she just holds Izzie, her hands tangle in the blonde curls and she cries too, realizing that she's broken this young woman, this woman that she loves so much.

All she can do is ask for a second chance; all she can do is love Izzie the way she's supposed to be loved. All she can do is provide the city lights to pick out the path; it's up to Izzie to take it.

Izzie can't see the future. But she sees the moment; and the image that she's given is well on its way to replacing the image that she was left with.

There could be a chance, after all.

_I wish you were here_


End file.
